Ten
by kiminitodoke
Summary: They say that it takes ten encounters to change a first impression. Well, it took ten times of meeting you to make me realize that my initial impression of you will never change. Just ten brief situations that made me fall in love with you.
1. Chapter 1

This story is going to be short, and it is not quite what I wanted to write, but I can't make another long story without finishing my other ones. Anyways, read, review, and enjoy!

Library. At a desk. Loud snores. Drool. It must have been a good dream for you to be sleeping so soundly. It is kinda amazing how you are not bothered by the looks you are getting right now, but I guess you can't really care when you are slumbering.

I don't think I have ever saw you before. I wouldn't have seen you today if it weren't for all the tables besides your's being full. I don't know why other people with just give you the whole table for yourself. I mean, they are going out of their way to sit on the floor rather than just sitting with you. You are not scary with your weird hair color that you probably dyed because frankly, that blue hue is not natural. You are definitely not intimidating with your kid like appearance and height, but here we are, alone, while everyone else avoids us like we have a contagious disease. It's not your breath, by the way. I can smell it from here, and it is sweet. It must be that half-eaten fruit roll-up next to you or maybe it is just your natural scent. Either way, it only adds to your youthful demeanor.

I can't study you anymore because I have to study my books on case courts. I have an exam tomorrow, and though I am confident about making a hundred, I still feel the need to go over them again. However, I only manage to read a few sentences when my eyes drift back to you. It's not just because you are strangely attractive, but it is probably due to the whimper that you release. It seems like your dream to a wrong turn because your nose is crinkled as are your eyebrows. I wonder if I should wake you up, but I decide against it. As you frown, I reach over and pat your head gently. I don't want you awake, but I do want your dream to become more pleasant. When I had nightmares, my mother used to pat my head until I felt more calm, so I am hoping that it will be the same for you. And it appears to work when your face relaxes. I pull my hand back only to stop short when your face transforms into it's previous expression. I sigh as I resume my petting.

We must be a sight. Books open yet all my attention is focused on lightly stroking your smooth hair. Do you use some kind of special conditioner? It is silky and nice. Soft. I want to keep running my fingers through it, but I think you are slowly waking, so I snap my hand back. I pretend to be engrossed in my book as you stretch and yawn. I peek at you rubbing your eyes, and I must say you should not be allowed to be in college. You look too young, but if you are here, you have to be at least eighteen. I do not know if you glanced in my direction or not, but I kinda hoped that you did. I guess I will never know because instead of striking up a conversation, you up and leave without a sound or a word.

I don't go after you. Why should I? You are interesting with your sleeping habits and looks, but I have seen better and met weirder. Still, it is peculiar that once you are gone from occupying the table, people gravitate towards me, pulling out the chairs and sitting down. I would ask, but they immediately start doing what I should have been doing all along. I keep quiet.

After an hour or so, I give up on the whole idea of criminal justice. You are puzzling my mind. It must be because I love mysteries and getting answers, hence the reason as to why I wish to be a lawyer. Anyways, by the time I get to my dorm, you are in my thoughts, unmoving as you were in real life.

I go to the library all that week. Same time as the first, but you are not there. I even checked the elevators in case you decided to take a nap there. I don't want to find you because you are still roaming freely in my brain. No, the only reason as to my search is because on my test, I made a 98. I have never made anything less than a perfect score and to get anything lower was unacceptable in my book. So I had to find you. To make you take responsibility for distracting me with your barbaric snoring and disturbed sleeping. I'm angry at you, and as that week pass with you being a no-show, my anger grows. It is as if you are purposely avoiding me. I'm not as scary as I seem. If you are scared because I am tall, you shouldn't be. I have no desire to stomp on you. If you are scared because my eyes are unnaturally reddish, I can put contacts in to cover them. If it is because I am deathly pale, I can go tan. I just need to see you so I can give you a tongue -lashing. I need for you to apologize for making me get an imperfect grade and for making me wait. But like a coward, you don't come to meet me, and because I have three more tests coming my way, I forget you. Temporarily.


	2. Two

Hello! This short story is so easy to write. It is the first time I wrote in second point of view so that could be why. You guys know the drill by now. Read, review, and enjoy! Oh, thanks for all the love. I didn't think this would get any fans.

That navy sweater brings out your eyes if I remember them correctly. I can only see the side of your face because you are currently drinking from the water fountain. It is easy to walk over to you. The minute you bend down to get the water, everyone scattered away, leaving the hall unblocked. I wonder what kind of blessing or curse you have to get a crowd of people to disperse.

I don't say anything as I stand behind you. I just wait for you to finish, and though I am not thirsty, I pretend that I am to have an excuse to be there. My anger I had for you dissolved as I slowly forgot you, but as I see you taking your time gulping down the clear liquid as if you have been deprived of it for a long time, it grows slightly. It is irrational, but so are you.

After two minutes, I clear my throat. I don't have anywhere to be, but I want to talk to you and you are not giving me the chance. Still, you act as if you did not hear a sound and just proceed to drink. It is weird how natural you look bending over. Not in a sexual way, but in a way that a child would look if they were to be drinking from the fountain. What I mean to say is that you resemble a teenager rather than the adults that cower from you.

It is outrageously long until you decide that you are hydrated. What is even more outrageous is that you leave without looking at me. You just slide from your spot, face forward and walk away. I would go after you, but just like the time in the library, as soon as you are gone, the place is filled with people. I quickly lose sight of you.

It's not like I didn't try to chase you down. I did, but maybe it is because you are too small that I can't find you in the sea of our classmates. Maybe you just didn't want to be found by me, but whatever magical trick you were using to disappear from me needed to stop. I have to talk to you. I have questions you need to answer. I have comments that you need to respond and accept. So please just stop running away from me. I just want to talk. I promise.

Plea or promise, you remain hidden. Are you just a figment of my imagination or something? Is this my sanity trying to tell me that it is going on vacation? Are you some coping mechanism that my brain invented because I have recently been under stress due to my internship? If you are, shouldn't you at least say a few words to me. Look at me, maybe? Or just acknowledge my existence?

I spend longer thinking about you. I have no pressing issues, so my thoughts naturally come back to the unsolvable you. Do you ignore me because you think I am not worth your time? I mean, I don't look like much, but I do have my good points. I am smart. A genius some would say. I am athletic. I can be funny sometimes. Depending on the situation, I can be charming too. Though I am not as handsome as others, females and males are interested in me. I do fine in that department. I am not that weird. I do have a strange obsession with cats, but that is not something you avoid someone over, unless you are allergic. Are you? Is that the reason? I can give up the felines for a week or two if that would make you have a conversation with me.

I like to change what I said earlier. I said I wasn't weird, but I guess I am now. It's your fault. Your fault that I am asking around to find out your name. You are making me into a stalker, and I don't appreciate it one bit. Just tell me your name! Then I can stop with this madness. And it is madness because no matter how I describe you, no one knows who you are or if they do know, they won't tell me. I even went to the administrative, but they said they can't release any information about students without their consent first. Well, I wouldn't even be there if you consented and told me who you were in the beginning.

It takes me a month to come to the conclusion that I would let you go. So what if you are a puzzle? I can leave you unfinished. It's not like you are going to haunt me in my dreams or my every waking thought, right? You are just going to go like you do in real life: silently and without leaving a trace of your presence.


	3. Three

I am stressed! Sorry for not updating anything. I will try a little harder. Promise. Read, review, and enjoy!

Be honest. Do you like having me chase after you in my dreams or in reality? You like it, don't you? Knowing that someone, me specifically, can't forget you. It's not as if I didn't want to erase you from my memories because I did. Oh, how I prayed that you would just leave me alone, but you make it impossible. Literally. How can you smother a person's existence if they suddenly appear? You can't. That's why I think you are a witch. Or a wizard. I mean, to make it rain, and to some how compel me to walk a different path than usual must be your work, right?

I would pass you without another glance, but you look so damn pitiful at the moment. Do you like getting sick? Because I am sure that getting drenched to the bone will cause it. Your thin clothes are definitely protecting you from the elements at all. The shirt you have is clinging to you like skin, and I would know because I can see your pale back through the flimsy material. Your pants are in the same state as your t-shirt, but fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you see it, your lower body is not visible. Your hair is mated to your skull. And though you are so obviously a sad sight, for some annoying reason, I smile. A little.

The only reason why I come over to you is not to cover you with my umbrella in an attempt to shield you from the drops of water falling from the clouds. No, I only want to know what has your attention. What has the attention I seem to not be able to get from you. But if you wanna offer your appreciation, I wouldn't be totally opposed by it. A word of gratitude would suffice.

Or anything. Why can't you give me any sign that you actually know that I am beside you? When I place the umbrella over us, I expect you to look up at me, itching to know what gave you the sudden shelter from the weather, but you remain fixated by the box in front of you. The box that has a lone puppy, whimpering in the blanket that is providing little warmth, I'm sure. It's cute, I suppose, but did it really deserve your undivided focus? Is this your subtle way of telling me that I am not more interesting than the dog? I am not particularly fond of the canines, but I guess I can see their appeal. A man's best friend, right? Well, give me a chance, and I can be your best friend! They make great companions, but so could I. They give you licks or kisses. Well, hello! I'd definitely do that if needed. Whatever that puppy could do, I could do it ten times better so please turn around!

You pay no mind to me as per usual when I bend down to your level. You merely reach for the animal, cradling it to your chest, though, with how soaked you are, I doubt you are transferring any of your heat to the newborn. That does not stop you from trying. You just puff out warm breaths of air onto the dog. Should I do that to you? I am almost positive that you would actually turn around if you felt someone breathing down your neck. Unless you are used to that, then I guess I would have to change my tactic. Maybe scoop you into my jacket or set you on fire. Surely you would care if I did that, right?

I am tired of your aloofness. I will not stand for it any longer. I carefully but swiftly take the dog from you hands. Look at me, I think. I press the dog to my neck, feeling it shiver consistently. The puppy whimpers a little from being jostled. Look at me. You don't glance up. You just stare at your now empty hands. Look. At. Me. You finally stand, and move your body in my direction. Look at me! And you do. It's brief, but our eyes meet, and I am completely lost. Lost in their color and their depth. I am at a loss of what to say as well. I am completely stunned. So frozen that you manage to snatch the tiny dog from me. You take it, rub it against your face, and then, you glare at me. But your fierce expression melts. A small, and I mean small, twitch of your mouth occupies your facial features, and I know it is as much of a smile that I could hope for at this time.

You turn and leave. But I am happy. For once, you made me happy because this means that I am slowly wearing you down. This means that I can anticipate more when we next meet. A turn of your lips here, but maybe next time, you might give me a full smile. You could even say a greeting to me. Ask me my name or give me yours. You could tell me why people avoid you the way that they do. You could tell me your age, your hobbies, your everything. I could tell you so many things, and maybe you would respond. Maybe. Just maybe. And that is what I go home thinking. The possibilities of those maybes.


	4. Four

Hello! I made an A on one of my test! Think I flunked the other one, and I am taking my next one tomorrow so…I wanted to update this to make myself feel better. Anyways, please read, review, and enjoy. PS. If you are wondering why this is rated M when there is no smut, there will be in two chapters. So please be patient.

Is today my birthday? Have I done some good deed that I do not know about, and I am being repaid right now? Is this moment actually real? Did you willingly sit next to me? You must be real because you have that puppy in your arms from yesterday. You really shouldn't do this to the dog and I. You should have left the poor canine at home. It is too cold today, and the snow that is falling is not helping. You should have not sat by me either. Don't get me wrong, I am glad that you did. Really glad, but I think you might get the wrong impression when you see the blush on my face. It is only there because it is freezing.

You like me, don't you? Just a tiny bit, but still, I can tell I am wearing you down. How do I know this? You sat a little to close to me. The bench can seat three maybe four people, but you choose to sit in my intimate space. I can feel your body heat exude onto me. If I shift to the right even slightly, we would be touching. Would you like that? Would you be creeped out if I put my arm around your shoulders? Would you be happy? But because I am scared of the repercussions, I hold myself back like always. I just satisfy my need to touch you by gazing at you and your caring nature.

You look at me suddenly. You catch me off guard when you swing your body in my direction. Your eyes capture mine. I smile nervously. You frown back, but even with that expression, I can tell you are not displeased with me. It's in the way your eyes reflect kindness, or maybe I can tell that you can stand me when you hand the puppy to me. I am reluctant to hold it. It's not just because I don't like dogs, but it is because I would rather hold you. But I will take what I can get.

Once you transfer the pup to my arms, which I might mention that our skin would have brushed if I wasn't wearing gloves, you scoot just a tad bit closer. You reach over and run your finger tips on the puppy's scalp, pausing to rub slowly against his ear. I would like to ask you to pet me too, but I do have some pride. But not enough pride to not get jealous of the stupid mutt.

Maybe you can read my thoughts because all of a sudden, you are trying to take the doggy away from me. I merely tilt my body the other way, refusing silently to give him back. I know that if I do, you will leave me all by myself, and I must admit, I have not had my fill of you just yet. So I block you, and you huff out cutely. Your lips form a pout, and I know for a fact this is your subtle way of seducing me. Or maybe this is me seducing you. Wait, that didn't make any sense. Gah! I can't think when you are looking like that.

Just to stop you from pouting, I raise the dog and smash the animal to your lips gently. You are surprise. Your eyes widen. You are adorable. You are even more endearing when you start to laugh. But I can't hear any sound coming from you. I can't hear you, but I can hear the wind blowing. I can hear the leaves rustling from the wind. I can even hear the snow landing on you and me, but I can't hear you laugh. And I **hate** that. Yes, it is fulfilling to know that I caused that smile and your laughter, but I want to **hear** it! Maybe you have one of those silent laughs. Maybe this is one of your ways to tease me. You realize that I want to get to know you, so you are hiding yourself from me because you are a flirt. A tease. You look like one with white snow flakes land on your teal hair, deciding if to melt or to stay frozen. You with your flushed cheeks and red nose. Even with your lips chapped from the harsh winter, you are impeccably charming. So maybe this is just one of your ploys. I don't care what it is as long as you just keep letting me play with you.

After you give the dog a peck, you take him back. The dog yips quietly, and you pull him to your chest. You abruptly stand up, facing me. You nod your head as if in goodbye, but I don't want to let you go yet so I grab the back of your jacket. You glance down and look back, confusion all over you face. I wanna say for you to stay, but my lips won't work. I can't move my mouth, and because of my lack of mobility, you easily escape from my grip. I want to grab you again, but I don't. Something about the way you scrutinize me makes me pause. Makes me hesitate and for my breath to catch in my throat. It's almost as if you don't want to leave me too. Like you want to just sit by me again, but there is something else lurking behind that want, but I can't put a name to it. Whatever it is, it causes you to walk away from me. It causes you from being with me. And because I do not now what it is, you disappear from my sight. The snow starts to come down quicker. It is more dense. The snow is starting to blanket the ground, wiping away your foot steps. Covering the proof that you were with me.


	5. Five

Hello! I made two A's and one high B on my tests, so I am updating some stories soon because of my good mood! Review and enjoy!

It is still snowing outside, but I still return to our bench. I say that it is 'our bench' because it belongs to nobody but us. We shared memories there, and I stake my claim on it. Nevertheless, no matter how long I stayed, you don't show up, and with my fingers numb and my nose running, I head into the dining hall.

It has only been maybe seventeen hours, thirty-two minutes, and twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…seconds since I last saw you, but it feels like it has been years. Therefore, when I spot you occupying a table that seats six, I rush to you, not even bothering to apologize for bumping into the people that seem to purposely get in my way. Nothing can keep me from reaching you right now.

That strange occurrence is happening again. The cafeteria is filled, but no one sits with you. They just took the chairs that are supposed to be for your table and sat them around already crowded tables. I am little mad that they are purposely ignoring and secluding you, but I am also slightly happy that they left one seat. The seat that is right. Next. To. You. I take this as a sign from above telling me that they want you and me together, and who am I to go against fate? I plop down on the empty chair.

You aren't eating anything, yet you have food all over the table. Hamburgers, fries, chicken, Mexican, Chinese. Then the large variety of desserts you have in front of you. All untouched, and though they look appetizing, they all appear bland when I see your eyes radiate happiness. And I don't need you to clarify if it is happiness or not because I know that you are glad to see me. I just know because my heart tells me so.

You unexpectedly offer me a piece of chocolate cake that is closest to you. My eyes don't only widen; my mouth does as well. It wasn't for you to stuff the sweet in my mouth, but you do it anyways. You hold your hand still as the fork lays on my tongue. You wait for me to close my lips so I can take the food of the utensil, but I can't seem to do it. I want this moment to last because it feels like we are a couple. Like this is a norm for the two of us. Like you like me, so to prolong this feeling, I keep my mouth open. My saliva is building, and though you should be disgusted, you smile. Yes, an actual smile! In order not to choke, I finally wrap my tongue around the cake, and as you pull the fork away from me, I swallow both the treat and the urge to share it with you through a kiss.

I look around to avoid eye contact, suddenly feeling shy. I didn't expect to catch people watching us, but they were. Judging us with their isolating gazes. It was not just one or two strangers observing you and me, it was everyone in the building. They all stopped all their actions, all their talking, everything just to stare. I glare at them, trying to get them to just to mind their own damn business, but it doesn't work. I am tempted to stand and give them a piece of my mind, but a hand on my arm makes me calm down immediately. I glance up at him, and he is shaking his head, probably telling me to not get angry over nothing. But it wasn't nothing to me. They shouldn't be gawking at us. There was no reason for their looks. It is not as if we were doing anything bad. You were just feeding me! We weren't making love on the table…I mean, if you were to propose that we should do that, then I wouldn't necessarily object. Ha…Kidding. I'm kidding.

I can feel myself getting a little warm from my line of thoughts. Do you ever entertain those kind of fantasies? Well, of course you have. You are male, but have you ever thought of you and me in that kind of way? I don't usually think about you sexually. Really, I don't, but if you keep griping my arm like that, looking at me with poorly hidden like, then things are going to drastically change our whole dynamic. But I want things to change for us.

"Hello, my name is Sebastian. What is your name?" My voice is shaking. I don't mean it to, but I am nervous. This is the first time I have spoken to you. Do you like the way I sound? Too deep or high, manly or girly? Or maybe it is perfect?

I believed we were over being aloof to each other, but I suppose you don't agree. You don't reply. You don't give me your name that I have desperately wanted to know since I met you. I ask again, and you only tilt your head, flashing a sad expression at me. You let go of me, disestablishing any body contact with me. You rise from your seat, turn, and start to walk away from me, deserting me yet again. I quickly try to go with you, but at that moment, the cafeteria sets in motion. Everyone is moving, colliding into me, making me lose sight of you.


	6. Six

Guys! Ten is almost over! And I am sad! There have been some guesses about Ciel, and so far, no one has gotten it completely right. Bits and pieces, maybe. Um, Ciel is not mute, but there is logic to my writing. It will make sense in the ending chapters. I am glad you guys like this story. Review and enjoy!

I am glad that you have not emerged in front of me in a while. It is true that I am hurt by you for not responding when I asked you a simple question, but there is another reason as to why I want some space from you. Space that you seem all too willing to provide. The reason why I do not want to see you is because of my recent nighttime fantasies. I mentioned that I don't typically think of you sexually, but that seemed to change as of recently. It has become so bad that I wake up with, you know, a problem. My water company must be wondering why they are earning so much more money from me as of late. Also, my wrist is not so happy for the sudden increase in demand.

I am not a man of lust, but you made me become one. You with your youthful allure that you used to trick me into lowering my defense, or more specifically, that you used to make me not even put them up in the first place. That skinny, but not too much so, body of yours that you swayed when approaching me. That you taunted me with every, single time you disappeared. The only touch you graced me with was miniscule, but right now, with my eyes tightly closed, I can feel more than just your hand on my arm. I can imagine feeling all of you.

Those nighttime visions of you are increasingly getting more unbearable for me. If it was just a plain sex dream, I would be okay. Looking you in the face when the time came would probably be all right for me, but it wasn't just us intertwining our bodies together over and over again. I mean, it was that, but the thing that made me want to avoid you is the feelings that arose from being with you in that kind of way. Even if it was just illusions, I could feel it. I could feel myself liking you.

You know, it didn't start out like this. My first explicit dream of you left me aroused. All I had to do then was just slide my hand down my elastic band of my briefs. I curled my hand around my harden length, and I moved up and down, slowly at first. I stopped at my tip and rubbed my thumb deeply into it, pausing as a shock of pleasure ran through my system. And then, because you were so imprinted in my mind, I tugged quickly and pulled, moaning into the air. When I drew near, I wish more than anything that I just knew your name so when I finished, the universe would know that it was you that caused me to cum onto my stomach. You that had my eyes rolling into the back of my head, and my toes scrunching into my sheets. You that made my heart speed up into an immeasurable pace.

That was how I was at beginning. It was purely physical. What we did and what I had to do later was just physical, but now… Things have changed. Now, instead of us starting out in bed, it is me holding your cheek. Instead of me pushing you down and stripping you of any clothes, it is me bending down and leaning in slightly, hesitating in front of your lips to give you the chance to pull away from me. Instead of you ridding me hard and fast, with my hands gripping your hips so I can slam you down faster and faster, and oh, god, faster, it is you and me engaging in a loving kiss. It is you clawing at my back as I grind into you, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly while your tight hole squeezes me, trying to suck me deeper. It is me whispering how great you make me feel, and how I wish for us to never end or stop. Kissing anywhere I can reach until we finish our night of passionate lovemaking. You see, it wasn't just sex for me anymore. It was my subconscious and soon, my conscious, telling me that I didn't want you as a personal fuck toy (pardon me for cussing) but as my possible one and only. Because, honestly, I was falling in love with you.

So that is why I try and evade you as of recently. I don't think I can look you in the eye without blushing. I don't know if I can sit next to you and act normal because the things I feel for you aren't. I can't be sure that I won't try to hold you in the way that I want or swoop in for a peck. I am almost for certain, though, that if you let your guard down for even a second, I will take advantage of you in any way that I can possibly think of. However, since you won't even tell me your name, you won't be leaving yourself defenseless anytime soon.

For now, let me be. Yes, being away from you makes my spirits low and sometimes, I think if you don't come to me, I will go crazy, but I need time. I need to make sure that when you do finally walk over to me that I can behave myself. I need to make sure that my feelings won't show up on my face the instant my eyes focus on you. Most of all, I need to brace myself for the worst.


	7. Seven

I will update more on the weekend. I have two test in the next two days, so I gots to study! Review and enjoy. Oh, which story would you people want updated? I take request! **Bold-** means Ciel'

I do not know how long has passed until our paths crossed. A couple days, a week, maybe a month, I cannot tell because without you, time blends. Shouldn't it be the opposite? Shouldn't a second feel like a year? Or is it that I cannot differentiate between any measurements of time since each moment without you does not mean anything to me? Mmm, probably.

Although I can't recall the last time I saw you, it does not matter when I see your back as you walk into the bathroom. Honestly, nothing matters when you are here, and my pervious worries definitely didn't matter as they flew out of my mind when I followed you in the boy's room and wrapped my arms around you.

You feel good. Your back pressed against me makes my heart flutter in my ribcage. Is your heart racing too? I hope so. If your face in the mirror is any indication as to what you are feeling, then maybe I should be happy because your wide eyes must mean that though you are surprised at the unexpected embrace, you are more shocked at how _right_ you feel pressed to me. The gasp that escapes your mouth is because you _like_ me, and you had to release that breath of air to keep yourself from speaking, right? Right? Well, I guess my heart can beat crazy enough for the both of us.

I really did not anticipate hugging you or hugging you for this long, but I think the one thing that I am most flabbergasted by is that you don't pull away. Instead, you relax in my hold. Your head rests on my chest, and your body uses mine as a wall as you lean on me. I must confess that I am happier than I have ever been in my entire life, which is quite a feat since I dubbed meeting you to be the greatest moment I have experienced.

We sure are lucky that the restroom is empty, huh? I mean, I wouldn't care what people would say or think if they were to walk in on us right now. I decided in the time we spent apart that I did not need to pay attention to anybody else because I would have you, and you are all I want. I don't need their approval to like you or their judgment. Having you is all I require.

There is another thing that I determined, which is that if you won't talk to me, I would just talk for me and you. Yes, it would be better if you participated in a conversation with me, but I can make sacrifices if it meant that the product would result in me and you being together.

"I am not holding you tight, am I?" I ask and though I don't mean to whisper it, I do. There is something about being in a room by ourselves that makes my voice lower naturally. Like I don't want to dispel the bubble that is around us.

You shake your head, and I am absolutely appalled at how simplistic I am to be this delighted over such a minimal action. However, I think we have that simplicity in common because I see your features soften in the mirror. I take my chances and squeeze you a little hard, wondering what your response would be and when a frown occupies your face, I quickly reduce the pressure. Then you grace me with a small smile.

"We haven't seen each other in a while. Did you miss me?" I bit my lip and stare at our reflection in an effort to catch the truth from your expression in case you try to lie to me. When your smile does not falter, my confidence in myself rises. I feel like you are reciprocating my feelings. That confidence plummets when you, again, shake your head, signifying that, no, you did not miss my presence.

I immediately let you go and step back. It is childish to be so upset at your rejection, but I can't help myself. I have only had a crush on one person other than you, and she was my kindergarten teacher so that does not count. I am not really knowledgeable when it comes to things like these. I'm sad to admit that I am not a virgin, but when it pertains to actually _feeling _the way you make me do, I am innocent and untouched.

With my eyes turned downward, I don't see you stepping towards me, but I do feel you burrow into me. I glance down while you look up, and when our eyes meet, you give a pout. "What's wrong? I'm not mad at you or anything," I explain. Your pout increases. "I'm not." You vigorously shake your head. "I am really not. I completely understand if you didn't miss me. I am not that memorable anyways." Your face scrunches up in anger, and you stomp on my left foot. "What? Are you trying to tell me that I am unforgettable," I joke, trying to mask my growing frustration of misunderstanding your intent as well as trying to soothe my wounded ego. I thought you were going to mime to me a 'no', but you nod and because I want to thoroughly comprehend your message, I question your movement. "So you did miss me?" **No**. I sigh. "Then I am important to you." **Yes. **I wrap my arms around you again, pick you up, and twirl you around in a fit of glee. I put you down. "I am important to you, but you didn't miss me," I repeat for you. **Yes. **I want to ask you why you finds me so valuable, why you don't care if I am not with you, just why, but I can't. You would only respond to "yes or no" questions, right?

"Do you remember my name?" **Yes. **I squeal a little in my throat. "Do you like it?" You hesitate before nodding. So far so good! I should not inquire about this subject, but I can't resist anymore. I close my eyes while I blurt out, "Do you like _me_?" I snap my eyes open, waiting to see your head either move up or down or side-to-side, but the door suddenly swings ajar. Guys start filling the room, eager to empty out their bladders. They stop moving when they see us, and though I am not embarrassed about our position, it appears that you are because you let your arms fall from me. You grimace, and I hope, I pray, that I imagine the slight motion of your head swaying from left to right. I won't believe it until you clearly state it, but before I can reiterate, you have already exited. I rush after you, but I know it is pointless. I will have to wait in this terrible ambiguous confusion that your last action caused because I refuse to believe it unless you say it to me. I refuse.


	8. Eight

Answers? No. More questions? Yes. Will we ever find out the mysteries of Ten? Yes! Anyways, review and enjoy. Request for any story! Love you guys!

It is time for me to court you. Yes, I am referring to the era of chivalry and courting the one I like, which so happens to be you. If you have any complaints, take it up with the manger, which, in this theoretical scenario, is I. And I surely will disregard any grievances you may have so there. You better prepare yourself.

It does not occur right away. After you managed to get away from stating your true feelings about me, you made it rather difficult, if not impossible, to locate you in this school. In fact, I found you crossing the street, three miles away from the college. But once I have you in my sights, I run up to you and whisk you up into my arms. Literally.

"There is a puddle," I lamely excuse my action as I step onto the sidewalk. Your surprised expression turns into a bashful smile, and I am glad that you are not upset with my impromptu way of wooing. "Actually, there is a lot of puddles today. I guess I am going to have to carry you for a while." Even though you can clearly see that there is, in fact, no water on the streets, you nod while you rest your head on my shoulder.

I wish I can tease you about your weight. Maybe lie about how I am struggling to hold you or that if you weighed even a pound more, my knees would buckle, but I can't because for some odd reason, you feel as light as a feather. It worries me to no end because I am not that strong. You should be causing my muscles to strain, to become taut from supporting you, but you don't. It really feels as if I am lugging around a transparent version of you.

"Where you heading somewhere?" I ask, trying to dispel this nagging, apprehensive feeling that is blooming in my chest. **No. **"Then you were just taking a walk?" **No. **"Hmm. You were probably thinking of me and forgot to watch were you originally going, right?" You silently laugh, and I think you nod in exasperation to humor me. "Well, if it gives you any comfort, I have those moments often. Actually, it is kind of embarrassing how often I end up getting lost from thinking about you…Does that make you feel uncomfortable? That I think of you all day?" **No. No. No.** I chuckle. "Stop shaking your head so much! You will get dizzy." You do as I say.

I walk us back to our bench. I should let you down, so you can take a seat, but I keep you in my hold. You don't complain. I don't think you physically can. Which reminds me, "Can you speak?" You gaze at me in confusion. Maybe I should be clearer. "I mean, are you mute? Do you have a condition that renders you unable from talking?" You give me that sad look you gave last time, but you shake your head 'no'. "Then why are you not saying anything to me?" Again, that look. "If you could talk to me, you would, right?" **Yes. **"Then I guess I will have to be satisfied with that," I sigh.

A drop lands on my head. I glance up, and I am caught off guard with the numerous amount of cumulonimbus clouds that fill the sky. I could have sworn that it was a bright, sunny day or maybe that was just how I was feeling when I saw you. Another drops falls and soon, it is pouring. You should probably leave for shelter, but you remain stagnant in my grip, and since you have no qualms about the rain, I stay sitting.

However, the longer I wait here, watching you be doused in water, that queasy feeling is rising. It is not like the first time when I saw you with the puppy; this is different. The only that is not similar from that time is that you are in my arms now, but why should that matter? Why is my hear threatening to jump out and land on you? Why am I sweating despite the cold splashes of water cooling me off? Why am I afraid?

Do you feel it too? This abhorred emotion that is bubbling in the pit of my soul? You must because it is not the rain that falls from your eyes. It is tears. My heart is no longer racing; it is breaking. "What's wrong?" You stare at me blankly. "What's happening? Why are we like this?" You shake your head. "Something is not right. Do you know?" You tilt your head back. Your bluish hair takes on a black undertone, making your face deathly pale. What is unusual is that I still don't feel your weight, but I feel the rain that covers you. You are like an empty wet carcass.

My thoughts are swirling. None of them are positive, but I cannot pinpoint what they are about. I just know that they are things that I don't want to have in my mind. You sense this because I feel your hand touch my cheek. My mind clears. "I fine. You make everything okay." I grin. His crying increases.

The rain is picking up more. I can hear thunder now, and it is so deafening that if I were to ask you why you are sobbing, you will probably not hear me, so I refrain. I shouldn't have because your hand slides off my cheek as do you. I reach for you, but I slip and fall to the ground. I try to get up, but my body is heavy. Everything hurts, and it shouldn't. Everything is going dark, and it shouldn't. You leave me alone, and you shouldn't.


	9. Nine

Eight reviews for chapter eight! Awesome. You guys made this girl so happy! Thank you all for reading and partaking on this story. It is coming to an end. Sad but proud. Mixed feelings! Keep reviewing and enjoying! (No answers!)

I don't remember how I made it to my room. Did I even make it there? I don't know. My body hurts still. Each second that passes is making it heavier and heavier, and if it doesn't stop, I am sure that I am going to die. But despite the physical pain, my heart is causing an even greater agony. Why? Because you left me. You disappeared, leaving me all alone. That should be the worst part, but it is not. I wished that it was, but it is not even close.

I would give up the world if it meant that you would be living. I really would. You might not believe me, but it is true. If I had to pretend to not know you, to not care for you, then I will act my role out with a smile. As long as you were breathing, and maybe happy, I would make myself invisible for you. I would do anything.

You might be wondering why I am bringing this up in the first place. Well, I wouldn't feel the need to if it weren't for the current, reoccurring nightmares. God, I hope they are nightmares. If they are some premonition of some sort, I…Please let it be a dream. Let it be fake when I see you in the rain, walking the street that I carried you on. I am on the other side of the crosswalk, and I am debating if I should make my way over to you. The lights are red, signaling that it is okay for us to cut across the road, and though the machine indicates for us to go, I remain in the same spot. My feet are not glued to the sidewalk; they are molded in the cement. I can't move. I can't move, and it is killing me because though it is safe for pedestrians to cross, it is not. Because a car is coming your way. Because it is not breaking. And the inability to move that is killing me is now killing you.

I don't know why it is not stopping. The driver can see you, can't he? How can he miss you? You, who is so beautiful? But for whatever reason, he remains driving. His foot steadily presses on the gas pedal. I want to yell at you to look out, but I can't find my voice. It is catching in my throat, and try as I might, I can't warn you. Look around. Please! You don't. The car heads closer and closer to you. Please…

There is no honk or screech of the tires as it collides into you. Nothing that demonstrates the driver's attempt to stop or his remorse. Nothing to mask the undeniable sound of metal hitting flesh. It is only when you are on the ground that I am able to move. Only now that the people I had failed to notice around me start talking, whispering, and gasping. Only now that I am crying because I know that I am too late to help you. I run to you anyways. No one follows my lead, but you do not need them. You have me.

I reach you at last, and I carefully turn you to face me. Before I can see the damage the car has done to you, the images fade. The dream breaks apart, and for the moment, I can breathe again because it is all a horrible hallucination until it starts over. Then it is unbearable, for I am in the same damn predicament, waiting for that car to crash into you, again and again, unable to aid you, to save you, to die for you! And it is Hell because a world without you might as well be.

Since my body has this crushing pressure that renders me motionless, I have to suffer this nightmare in a constant loop, without the capability to press pause or to push stop or fast forward or to just turn it off. I lay in this dark abyss of horror with you withdrawing yourself from me in the same, unchanging way. Over and over. It comes to the point when I think that maybe I am growing accustomed to it from the consistent exposure, but then the already crippling nightmare becomes excruciatingly destructive to my mental state as each replay brings me a tad closer to seeing your face after the accident. It is horrifying because I need to see your facial features. I need to know if you are alive, and if you are, what shape you are in. If you are d-dead, I need to memorize everything about you before time inevitably steals you away from me. I need to see you, but I am afraid. I am so scared of your unknown fate that I pray for my stifling pain to increase past the threshold of my capacity to stand it so that I go into shock and slowly die. I actually believe that it is working because after an abrupt sharp throb of my heart, I feel lighter. My limbs don't feel as if they are chained to the ground anymore. I feel like I am heading to, as cliché as it is, the light. It is a piercing ray of light that finally brings me out of my hellish stupor. The light that wakes me up for once and for all.


	10. Ten

Let the hate reviews come! I mean, it is not a horrible end, but not a satisfying one either. I like it though. I have a proposition for you guys. If I get five to ten reviews, I will update a chapter of Heart of a Bachelor today. If I get those reviews and it mentions for a sequel to Ten of some sort, I will create one. Anyways, whatever happens, I love you all who stuck with my story. This is my first completed fanfiction! I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did! Thanks!

Opening my eyes feels like someone is pressing hot iron into my skin. It is painful, and the need to close them is present, but I force them to remain open. I can't cut my vision off because I have to figure out why I am hooked up to machines and why my parents are crying around me. I can't afford to rest my eyes.

They tell me of what happened. That I had jumped in front of a car to rescue a senior in high school. They said that the crash left me in a coma for a month and during that time, the student that I saved came to visit every day without fail. They said that his name is Ciel and that he is a very nice boy that brings sweets for them. It would explain why the room smells of sugar.

After they are done revealing my accident, they leave for home to shower and change into new clothes. They give me a kiss on my head, and once the door shuts, I am alone with my thoughts. If all of my memories of you were just due from my coma, does that mean you are not real? That you were a figment of my imagination? Were you something my subconscious created to keep me entertained while I was immobile and unresponsive to the world?

I begin to cry. I can't stop the tears, and I don't want to because I am in mourning. I have three cracked ribs, one broken leg, a multitude of scars and bruises, a mild head injury, but my heart hurts the most. I may have managed to keep this boy Ciel alive, but by waking up, I managed to kill you. I start to wish that I never woke up in the first place. I sear my eyes closed in hope that I might slip back into my unconsciousness state.

I hear someone coming inside. I assume it is a doctor, so I ignore the person in favor of rerunning our meetings starting with the library encounter to me holding you in my arms in the rain. I try to remember every detail about you, but I can already feel you fading. I let out a sob of distress. I don't want you to leave me by myself. I want you to stay beside me forever. I need you.

A hand touches my cheek. It is warm, but I refuse to acknowledge the stranger who is witnessing my pain. I am afraid that the longer I see my reality, the shorter I will have of ours. But the hand moves up to wipe my tears, and my eyes snap open. I know that sweet scent.

It is you. It is really you. Your blue orbs look at me with concern. Your pink, smooth lips are creased in worry. You radiate anxiety for me, but you alarmed for an entire different reason as I pull you on top of me. My body aches, but I don't care for my physical wellbeing because you are here. With me. And that is all I could ever want.

It is like I feel you for the first time. I can feel your skin like it is my own. I can feel your weight. Your hands, arms, legs, torso, head, everything. Not only can I really feel your body, but even your presence is stronger. I bask in your life.

You don't struggle to move away from me. In fact, you press closer and release a cry of your own. And your voice? I hear it. It is beautiful, and unexpectedly addicting. I crave it like I want you. I move your head back gently. Our faces are both covered in the salty drops of liquid, but as our gazes meet, we both smile.

I finally have the chance to speak with you, but I don't ask you any questions or prompt you to talk. I am more than content with just stroking your flesh quietly while you glance to the side, avoiding my unwavering stare. However, our intimate moment is shattered as a nurse struts into the room.

"Mr. Michaelis! No one told me you were awake! I am so happy!" She skips over to us. She should be shocked or maybe appalled by what she sees, but she grins at you and me. It makes me wonder why she deems this as normal, but my confusion resigns as she continues. "And it looks like Ciel has made is move. I didn't know you moved this quick," she says as she pats you on the head. Your blush increases as you jump off me. With my injuries, I can't keep you in my arms.

"Ciel?" I ask timidly out loud. You face me. All of a sudden, everything makes sense. You are the boy that I saved. That is why you were the focus of my fantasy. The reason as to why you never spoke to me was because I had no frame of reference to rely on. People avoided you in my dream because that was what they did as the car came rushing towards you. They waited while standing still under their umbrellas for the crash to happen. No one came to your aide, which was why they did not approach you in any of my hallucinations. You never got too close to me because we were never close to begin with. You cried because that is what you were doing as you held me after the collision before I blacked out. You couldn't give me an answer to my question on how you felt about me because we never truly met. You don't have any feelings for me because the time we spent together was not real. That revelation should make me sad, but I can't feel anything besides relief because we are both alive. I reach out and grab your hand. The nurse and you are both surprised. I pull your hand to my face and kiss your palm then I place it on my bandaged chest, letting it rest on my heart. I give you my best smile, and you give me your best flush.

You may not know me, but I know you. You may not need me, but I need you. You may not love me, but you will. Someday. Because I love you.


End file.
